The Butler Didn't Do It

Missing the Mark

“Please remember the bow and arrow is still a weapon and stop pointing it at each other.”

Shouted Timothy Johnson, the groundskeeper, landscaper and sports-master shouted at John. John and his friends gave the groundskeeper a dirty look and continued were messing around, making Native American whooping sounds while aiming bows at each other.

Wen, who stayed over by them looked ready to say something but her status made it impossible to not hold her tongue. She looked like she wanted to throw political correctness to the wind and scalp them to “join” the joke. At least I don’t have to serve them Brett thought, with not a little relief.

Included in the package for the Manor stay was a Field day of sorts where those who wished could learn al the sports that the gentry would have participated in. Turns out that besides tennis the upper crust were involved in all sorts of activities. Horseback riding, polo, croquet, hoops, a game like shuffleboard, and something akin to elementary school sport day three-legged races were just some of the past-times patrons had been allowed to partake in. Yet the archery was off limits until one took the introductory course. Even though the archery arena seemed straightforward and safe Brett had heard that accidents were not uncommon. In

“Were their arms made of steel!?” Didi groaned attempting to lift her bow and keep it steady where it would actually be of use.

“I thought ladies only picked up a needle and wore fancy lace clothes.” Veronica said loudly.

“This is true, but the turn of the century saw women participating in more sports and strenuous activity. It is because of this that you are not burdened with a unbearable amount of underwear.”

“My word, is a groundskeeper allowed to say that to a lady?” Brett whispered to a more senior butler.

“He can if he’s the only one on the property who can legally teach archery.”

“Alright stand, don’t lean back miss you aren’t trying to hit the sun. Now you want to look over your arm and try to aim for that large target. It’s large, on purpose. Take a shot. LET GO.”

It was a long afternoon of running into the field to retrieve arrows, the master stopping people from shooting at those intervals, distracting them with pastries and lemonade. It didn’t seem like people were as enamored with this as they had been the dancing.

“I’m tired!”

“Isn’t it time for lunch or tea or second breakfast or something?”

“Come on ladies,” The groundskeeper shouted, Women fought to be allowed to do sports and you want to go back to the kitchen?”

“Yes.”

There was a clunk as an another arrow hit its mark. Brett had to be impressed. Martina, longtime guest, almost resident of Barrows manor was hitting the farthest target every time. Her old body, seemingly so frail was loading and firing the bow as if she were hanging laundry.

“Well we wouldn’t want the young women to be tired.” The old woman said, giving Veronica a wink before hitting the target once again.

Veronica blushed, and her eyes sparkled with anger. “Well some of us have better things to do than spend the rest of our time alone shooting at targets. We have friends to hang out with.”

“I’d rather be alone while alone than alone with people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You would do well at archery if you tried, it’s right up your alley. Think about it. You take you target. Then you slowly take you aim. You size it up and figure out how to get what you want.” Another arrow hit its mark. “And then someone else cleans it up.”

Veronica’s perfect porcelain skin twitched. She wasn’t frowning, but she wasn’t smiling. She was looking at the woman coldly, a look he’d only seen her bestow on girls who dared to talk back to her.

“What would you know about getting what you want. I know about you. You come here year after year. You don’t make friends and like to make fun of those who do have a good time. Enjoy your sport, I hope it brings you the fraction of the joy that real friendships would bring.” The pretty young women said spitefully to the Martina.

With that Veronica returned to her friends, laughing and joking as if she hadn’t just tried to emotionally scar another human being.

Max hadn’t missed the exchange. “Your crush is vicious.”

“She’s not! She just doesn’t like to be talked back to.”

“Buddy, she basically told an old woman that she was going to die alone.”

“Well she might not be wrong. “

“It doesn’t matter you still don’t say stuff like that”

“Well...”

“Can you just admit that she is, even a tiny bit, and believe me I’m giving you leeway, just a tiny bit horrible.“

“I think you are judging her harshly from one instance of seeing her on a bad day.”

“What do you call a day when she doesn’t defend you from her knight in moldy armor?”

Brett turned surprised, he wasn’t used to hearing Max be so critical of other people. “Since when do you care so much about them? He asked

“Since I seen how much they like to mess with you.” Max was looking at Brett with pity.

“It’s just Jeff and...”

“No it’s all of them. They’re bullies. They travel in packs.”

“I was in that pack and I don’t appreciate the idea that I was some animal attacking others.”

“Weren’t you?”

Brett wanted to say no but

A memory came unbidden to his mind. He remembered when Gregory had brought his new bowtie to school, to show everyone what he would be doing for work. Bowers Manor, being the closest thing to Disneyland was legendary in the area. Everyone wanted to try on the bow tie.

Gregory handed it to Brett.

Brett had been about to put it on when he heard Veronica whisper in his ear “Gross, are you gong to put on someone else’s sweaty clothes? He cleans toilets in that.” And without any consideration for Gregory he’d just thrown it away. Tossed it to the floor and made jokes like everyone else.

Brett swallowed.

“Well?”

She—

“Let’s all take a break.” The Groundkeeper’s words were well received by his students. “The boats are still under maintenance so stay of f them and the lake but feel free to wander anywhere else you have access to.”

Besides Martina the rest of the class quickly put down their bows and took off.

Martina finished her last quiver. She then gently set down her equipment and also left. That meant that the staff could safely go an clean the arena. Though she was a great archer no one wanted to be within range of an accidental arrow from a woman who might have heard him or her talk badly about her.

“Well. The lawn is clean and it’s a beautiful day. You may take your half day off…” Davidson was saying after observing the grounds.

We have the rest of the day off!

“…Until 6. Be back to help serve and clean dinner.”

There was a groan from the servants.

“The more you groan the less you are walking and enjoying your free time.”

He didn’t have to tell them twice.

Walking in groups they took different meandering paths. Some sought as much sun as they could possibly stand. Others were looking of the more shadowed and unseen areas to get to know each other better. Brett walked with Max, Tanya, and Wen along one particular pleasant dappled path. Max Tanya and Wen talked amongst themselves almost as if they had known each other before their employment.

“If that’s a good movie than I only want to watch bad movies from now on.” Tanya quipped.

Max said in mock aggression, “Come on! It’s sad, if his father hadn’t died—“

“He mopes the entire movie!”

“And takes out his issues on his put upon girlfriend!”

“Who’s completely cool with it.”

“That’s the most fictional thing about the movie I think,” Wen piped.

The three laughed. Brett decided to slide in.

“If she’d just given him more blowjobs than he wouldn’t have been so mopey right.”

He waited for them to laugh, or give some sign that they appreciated his wit. But that did not happen. There was an uncomfortable silence.

“It’s a joke.” Brett said.

“We know” said Tanya looking at the ground.

“Then why aren’t you laughing?”

Wen turned to look at him “Because it wasn’t funny.”

Brett’s face flushed red. “You’re just being too sensitive.”

Max now turned to face Brett, “Hey she said she didn’t like it, it’s not personal.

Tanya decided to get them out of the awkward moment, ”Unlike Gate’s issue with the director I heard.

Ooh do you think any of that was true?

And off they were again; wrapped in a bubble of something Brett didn’t feel he could penetrate. His brain thought of a thousand little clever quips. He thought of things he knew that might make it sound like he’d watched the movie.

I shouldn’t want to impress them, Brett angrily thought. Who wants to make a bunch of prudes laugh anyway? It was an unkind thought, but one that made Brett feel marginally better. He smiled to himself, while the others laughed together.

A shriek rang out from near the lake.

“I’d know that pitch anywhere,” Tanya said quickly before moving in the direction of the screaming. Wen, Max, and Brett trailed closely behind her. Despite wearing a skirt the woman moved fast. Eventually they reached a clearing, close to the lake. A crowd had already gathered around a hysterically crying Didi. Brett thought she’d maybe lost an earing or something else ridiculous that he’d known the girl to get upset about. And then he saw her arm. It was wrapped in her mothers shawl. The shawl that had been white was now a bright red. Similar red droplets dripped from Didi’s arm showing the shawl was a Band-Aid but not a tourniquet.

Rodgers arrived and swooped down on Didi and her mother. “What happened?” His demand was quick and breathless. It sounded like he’d ran quite fast and from a long distance to get there. Brett noted that his athletic frame looked disheveled. Wow things must really be falling apart if the master of the house was failing to keep up appearances.

Didi’s scream hadn’t gone unnoticed by Quincy and his men. The detective wore the same sport whites of the other guests and still carried his racket. His two officers were leaning down in the dirt along with him. It was apparent that Quincy didn’t care how dirty his trousers became, although the laundry maids would be livid.

“Miss we’ve called an ambulance, are you alright?” Once of the officers, the female, asked.

“Tell us what happened.” Demanded Quincy.

Didi spoke between sobs. “He…stabbed…me…” With that she buried her face in her fathers shoulder, who couldn’t help but shoot his ex-wife another smirk before stroking his daughters hair in what he assumed was a comforting gesture but bore a strong resemblance to how he had petted the horses the day before. Brett thought it rather proved Tanya’s theory that he thought of the women in his life as chattel. “Didi, calm down. Tell the detective what happened.” Paul said, holding his daughter out at arms length.

Tanya leaned over to Max and muttered, “Did you notice how he doesn’t want to get he daughter’s blood on his suit?”

Max nodded. “My step dad once dived into a pig pen to rescue me at a petting zoo. I don’t he’s made of that same cloth.”

Wen gave Max a weird look. “How did you end up in a pig pen?”

Brett asked a more obvious question. “Why were there pigs at a petting zoo?”

Max waved them off, “I think there are more interesting mysteries afoot! I want to listen.” He looked intently at Didi. Brett did the same.

“That crazy butler, the one who killed the professor, he came up behind me and tried to stab me. I raised my arm and fell back so he only got my arm.” She wiped away her tears on her shoulder. “My screaming must have scared him off.” She then turned angrily to her mother. “I told you I never wanted to come here! You should have taken me home and not stayed when you knew an insane man was running about the place.”

Paul nodded and pulled Didi closer (But not her bloody arm) and said to his wife in a patronizing tone, “She’s right Audrey, you’ve been pretty irresponsible lately.”

Audrey was having none of it. “I think you can find a better time to paint me as an unfit mother. Right now I’d rather work to help catch the little bastard who tried to carve up our daughter.” She whirled on the detective. “What are we going to do?”

Quincy didn’t mince words. “We aren’t going to do anything.” He then addressed the crowd. “You all should return to the house at once. It looks like this butler has indeed gone from calculating to bloodthirsty. No telling who he will attack next.”